Nice to Meet You
by Winged Illusion
Summary: AU where John has lived in Washington all his life with his close friends Rose and Jade, and Dave moves to their town senior year. It will center around John and Dave meeting and becoming friends, and possibly more? Rated T to be on the safe side because Dave and Dirk have terrible language. Might change to M if I introduce suggestive themes later in the plot. We'll see. :]
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, ummmm, hi I guess? I'll keep this short and sweet. This is my first fanfiction ever. About anything. But I've read a ton of them, so I figured why not try my hand at one of my own? So I apologize in advance if this is awful and totally sucks. I also want to thank you sincerely for taking the time out of your day to read what I am writing. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, to tell me how I can improve, especially as I'm going at this with no experience whatsoever. So... yeah. Enjoy!

Oh, right, disclaimer: I do not own Homestuck or any of the characters or original ideas in it (much as I wish I did). All credit for those goes to Andrew Hussie. :] _Now _enjoy.

John's POV

You open your eyes, blinking groggily at the painfully bright light that is streaming in through your window between your currently nonfunctional curtains. (You were too lazy to get out of bed last night to close them, and dammit, you regret that decision now.) You squint blearily at the digital alarm clock that sits on your nightstand, and make out a hazy... is that a 6? You think it's a 6, but you're not entirely sure, to be honest. Grunting, you roll over on your side and grope for your thick-framed, black glasses, shoving them onto the bridge of your nose before glancing back down at your- holy shit, since when was it 6:34?! You could have sworn you only pushed the snooze button once. You _really _need to hurry up, as you have to be to school in less than half an hour, and it takes you 20 minutes to drive there and park, _if_ you're lucky. You rocket out of bed, throw on your clothes in record time, not even paying attention to what you're putting on, sprint to the bathroom to run a toothbrush over your teeth, and dash downstairs and out the door, grabbing your backpack, keys, and cramming your feet into your shoes on the way out.

Rose is going to be _so_ pissed at you. You promised you would meet her in the library this morning to go over your plan for presenting your psychology project in 3rd period and you just know you're going to get an earful when you do see her later today. (Not the most intelligent decision you'd ever made, taking AP Psychology with Rose. But she had begged you and Jade to enroll in the class with her so that she would "have someone to talk to in the likely event that the class was filled with the mundane majority of the students of this school who can manage no more than a stream of uninspired drivel characterized by an absolute dearth of intellectuality." Jade, in her retrospectively painfully apparent infinite wisdom, had flatly refused, so Rose had turned the full brunt of her persuasive powers towards you. You had never been able to say no to either of them, and you regretted it now.) Well, it honestly wasn't _that _bad, but everyone was entitled to a good gripe now and again in your opinion. Rose was just so enthralled by and devoted to the class. She took every assignment far beyond the required scope, and as her partner, you were often dragged along for the ride. You didn't really begrudge her it, though. It was nice to see her so enthusiastic about something when she was normally so passive.

When you _finally _make it to the school and into your spot in the senior parking lot after navigating the rest of the idiots who apparently lacked both driving skills _and _common sense (my god, how hard was it to navigate a 3 way stop? Honestly!) you practically vault out of your car and towards the building, barely sliding into your seat next to Jade in first period economics before the bell rang.

Jade turns towards you and grins widely, pausing in her animated chat with Feferi, a spunky, cheerful, rather eccentric girl who you personally didn't know very well, but who seems to be almost frighteningly similar to Jade. You don't think you could handle two people with Jade's personality, so you have been careful to maintain only a casual acquaintanceship with her. You feel kind of bad about this, but Feferi is such a social butterfly that it doesn't weigh on you too much. You, on the other hand... well suffice it to say you aren't exactly the most popular kid. You know you come across as kind of geeky and nerdy, and true your only close friends are Rose and Jade, (well, maybe Vriska too? She has been weirdly nice to you lately, and it's kind of freaking you out, to be honest.) but it doesn't really bother you that much. Sure, sometimes you wish you could be more in the thick of things rather than perpetually on the outskirts, but you're pretty happy with how your high school years have been. Especially in comparison to middle school. Well. You don't think about middle school. You have just sort of blocked that entire experience from your memory, and pretend it didn't happen. You realize suddenly that while you have been zoned out deep in thought, Jade has been speaking to you.

"-how much that must really suck, you know? I mean, I feel kinda bad for him, but at the same time, it's really exciting for us, don't you think? John?"

You look at her blankly, realizing you missed over half of the information she has inundated you with in the span of about 20 seconds, and then sort of nod sympathetically and agree "Yeah, really though." You figure you'll hear the story again when she tells it to Rose at lunch anyway. All in all, a pretty average start to a standard Monday morning in Washington.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So this is chapter 2. You can see that, not sure why I'm telling you this. As I said before, as this is my first fanfic, any guidance you all could provide would be greatly appreciated. And I'm sorry if I butchered Dave. I love him to death, but his entire speech and narrative pattern is pretty much a stream of consciousness. Which sounds really easy, but when it isn't _your _consciousness, it's actually terribly difficult. So... Yes. I hang my head in shame peremptorily. I'm not going to bother with another disclaimer, because I think it's relatively apparent that I don't own Homestuck. So please enjoy. :]

Dave's POV

As your eyes fly open, you sit bolt upright in your bed, launching across the room the smuppet that had been leering down its monstrosity of a proboscis directly in your face, smoothly drawing your least shitty katana out from under your mattress and disentangling yourself from your covers. You end crouched in a fighters stance on top of your bed, eye to eye with your _asshole _of a brother, who is dangling your shades ironically from one gloved finger, and smirking at you.

"Li'l Man, I thought your reflexes were better than that," he chuckles as you snatch your shades angrily back from him and shove them back onto your face where they belong. "Looks like finding somewhere to strife just became my new priority. Be ready after school today."

You groan internally. Fuck. School. You forgot about that. "Well, maybe if I hadn't been locked in a metal box for the past fucking _week_ like some sort of psychotic killer in a mental hospital, driven to the point of wanting to do an acrobatic fucking pirouette off the handle but not having enough space to so much as stretch my legs properly, it wouldn't be a problem," you growl back pointedly.

"Not my problem," your Bro shrugged as he turned to leave your room, taking the smuppet with him, thank God. "Be ready to leave in 15. I'm driving you."

You return your katana to its place under your mattress before flopping back onto your bed and staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling of your room. You sigh inwardly, in a totally ironic way, and then lift yourself from the bed in one smooth motion, flash stepping over to your closet and surveying its contents. After a brief moment, you settle on black skinny jeans and a white t-shirt with red sleeves and a broken record on the front, grabbing them and making the short trip from your room to the bathroom to take a speed shower. Generally, you like to take your time showering, as its where you come up with your best ideas for your mixes and shit in general, but Bro didn't exactly leave you much of an option, waking you up with only 15 minutes to get ready. After your shower, you throw on your clothes and pull on your red converse, grabbing your iPod, red fountain pen, and hoodie before heading downstairs to scour the cupboards for something to eat, in the unlikely event that you can find a box of cereal or something. To your surprise, you do in fact find a granola bar, as well as a box of your apple juice, though that isn't so surprising. You are willing to put up with a lot of shit, but a lack of apple juice in the morning is NOT on that list. You and Bro don't mess around when it comes to juice: yours apple, his orange. It's an unspoken agreement between you two. You ponder this as you stroll out of the kitchen and wander the downstairs floor looking for your Bro so he can take you to school. You wonder vaguely why he feels the need to drive you there when you are perfectly capable of driving yourself, but in the end decide it must be for ironic purposes.

"That's all you're taking?" You whirl around and see your Bro lounging against the doorway, quirking an eyebrow at your apparent lack of supplies. "You can use my backpack for today if you want."

"Eh, I'll pass, tha- wait, your Rainbowdash backpack? There is no way in hell. That thing isn't even ironically cool."

"Your loss," you watch as he turns with a shrug and walks out the door to his orange mustang parked at the curb. "Hurry your sorry ass up or you'll be late. And I know you hate it when I speed." Even without seeing his face, you can hear the condescending smirk that you just know is plastered all over it. You shudder involuntarily. As a Strider, you are too cool to be scared of anything. Except your Bro's driving when he speeds. You make an exception for that. His speeding puts Italians on their home streets to shame. It's about as safe as flying a Concord Jet at full supersonic speed through an air battle blindfolded. Actually, that might be safer. You waste no time in hurrying your sorry ass up and get in the car.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hello my lovely readers. I can say that as there are now officially people following this story, (a shout out to all you wonderful people). Oh, and thank you so so much for the lovely reviews! I can tell you honestly that every time I get a favorite or a follow or a review, it makes my darn day. Special thanks to carliecats and GuessMyName for being my first reviewers ever. I'm so glad you like the story so far! So here's chapter 3. I'm going to try to keep updating regularly, and I hope all of you will continue to review so that I can continue to improve my writing. Hugs, Kisses, and Popsicles for all of you. ;] Oh, as was mentioned previously, I don't own Homestuck. Enjoy!

John's POV

You sigh in relief as you slump back into your chair, propping one elbow on your desk as you rest your chin in one hand. You stare blankly at the projector screen, feigning interest in the students currently presenting their project to your AP Psychology class.

You were right, you had elicited an irked chastising from Rose, but your presentation had gone well enough (Rose did most of the talking anyway) that she didn't seem to be harboring any lingering disapproval for your failure to materialize for your (entirely unnecessary, in your opinion, but Rose was a perfectionist, so you couldn't really expect any different) last minute project review. You glance over at Rose, seated two desks to your right, only to see her deep in quiet conversation with the professor, who was paying little, if any, attention to the presentation he was supposedly assessing. You almost feel a little bad for the other kids in the class, as Rose pretty much monopolizes the teacher's attention most of the time, and takes all discussion to a level far beyond the comprehension of anyone besides her and the teacher. The only reason you can sort of follow their conversations is that you have been listening to Rose's perpetual, verbose psychobabble, as you affectionately call it, since you became friends in grade school, but even with that advantage, they still managed to lose you half the time. However, everyone gets a good grade out of it, so you guess it isn't such a bad thing.

You pass the time doodling idly in the margins of your notebook and contemplating what movie you'll watch when you get home, since your homework load seems to be rather light today. There have been rumors circulating of a new Nic Cage film that's supposedly in production, and you're already counting down the days to its prospective release. Until then, you'll just have to enjoy the vast collection of movies already at your disposal. You are shaken from your reverie by the shrill buzzing of the bell that signals the start of lunch. You grab your notebook and pencil and stuff them into your backpack, rising as you do and looking around for Rose. Unfortunately, she is still totally immersed in whatever it is that she and Mr. Watkins are talking about, and it may be a while before she is willing to leave. You, on the other hand, are hungry and more than ready to eat, so you exit the classroom and make a beeline for the cafeteria.

When you get there, you head straight for your usual booth, ready to sit and wait for Rose and Jade. The three of you have practically claimed the table tucked in the far back corner of the cafeteria, isolated at least a little from the overwhelming noise generated by the massive collection of rowdy adolescents in an enclosed room with apparently amplifying properties. Why cafeterias are always constructed of tiles and rigid walls that seemed to make any noise at least three times louder you will never understand. You unsling your backpack from one shoulder and reach around awkwardly to extract your lunchbag from its less than tidy interior, meanwhile navigating the maze of tables, backpacks, and students that compose the lunchroom. You finally manage to get ahold of it just as you reach your table, and you yank the brown paper bag free, simultaneously managing to dump half of the loose papers in your backpack to the floor in a flurry of crumpled white in the process.

"Oh, fucking _hell_," you groan, slamming your bag onto the tabletop and bending down to gather your scattered work. You've collected most of the stack, except for one errant page that had apparently felt the need to flutter all the way underneath the table. Grumbling under your breath and cursing your inherent clumsiness, you shift the stack of papers into the crook of one arm and drop to your hands and knees to crawl under the table and retrieve the fucking thing.

You feel like a complete moron as you snatch the piece of paper off of the floor and shimmy awkwardly back out from under the table, glad that there's no one here to see you looking like such a colossal idio- Oh. Scratch that. There _is _someone here.

You frown slightly, eyebrows furrowing as you reach up to push your glasses back into place on the bridge of your nose. You don't recognize the lanky boy that is currently seated- no, _sprawled-_ lazily across the bench of _your_ booth. His long legs are kicked up comfortably on the tabletop as he sips a- is that a _juice box?_ What is he, 5? and observes you cooly from behind the dark aviator shades that obscure his eyes. Thanks to his sunglasses (why the hell is he wearing sunglasses inside, you wonder somewhere at the back of your mind), you have no idea what he's thinking. It doesn't really matter anyway, as before you have time to process the words that are leaving your mouth, you blurt out incredulously, "Dude, what the fuck?"


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So obviously, it's been a while since I've updated... And I'm so _so SO_ sorry! I really am. But the play that I was in is finally over, so I should be able to update on a regular basis now! At least one chapter a week, I promise. So as you can see, I made this chapter really long... so please forgive me for being a terrible person? Pretty please? Thanks again to carliecats, GeekyOtaku, and dualisticblue for your reviews. I'm so glad you are enjoying the story! **dualisticblue**: when you say it's eloquent, even for my characterizations, do you mean it as a good thing, or that I should work on toning it down? Anyway, I don't own Homestuck, as much as I may wish it were otherwise, of course. Other than that, please keep reviewing, following, and telling me how I can improve, because I aim to please! Hugs, Kisses, and Popsicles for all of you lovely people, and please enjoy!

Dave's POV

You stare sullenly out of the window of your Bro's car as he pulls into the school parking lot, staunchly ignoring the individual in the driver's seat. Even though you had only been running less than three minutes behind schedule, (and even that mostly because of your Bro's disappearing to God knows where to do God knows what after waking you up and imposing your 15 minute time limit) he had felt it necessary to "make up for lost time" as he called it. Which basically meant using his own dalliance as an excuse to scare the shit out of you by exercising "Dashie's", as he affectionately called the tangerine vehicle, full horsepower. By maxing out the speedometer. All the way to 160 mph. Which definitely _hadn't _resulted in you shrieking like a little girl when he had taken a particularly sharp turn _way _too fast. Nope. Because you know your Bro will never let you live that down. If it had happened. Which it totally didn't.

Your incredibly focused crusade to "ignore Dirk with a vengance" is interrupted when the aforementioned asshole reaches over and yanks your earbuds out of your ears, cutting off one of your better mixes. You turn towards him and give him your best "what the hell do you want?" look, eyes flashing behind your shades.

You don't have to bother with taking them off around your Bro. Neither of you have any trouble reading the other with them on, mostly because Dirk has worn his for as long as you can remember, and had been the one to give you your first pair of sunglasses, which you rarely remove either. The reasoning behind this is twofold: One, the level of irony achieved by constantly wearing your shades is off the charts. Two, both you and your brother's eyes are hypersensitive to light. The doctor told you it had something to do with photoreceptisomethingorothers and the "odd" color of your eyes. Honestly, you don't really care. All you know is that you have a permanent doctor's note allowing you to wear your shades in school, which is just fine by you. It helps you keep up your coolkid image. Well. That, and it keeps the other students from freaking out about your abnormal eyes. That is something which has, unfortunately, happened more times than you would like to admit. You don't understand what the issue is, but apparently, having red eyes is a big deal. So what if your eyes are your favorite color, even if it is a bit unusual? _You _think it's pretty fucking awesome, but _apparently_ other people think it's weird or some shit.

You realize suddenly that your train of thought has gone completely off course. Like that shit jumped the fucking track off of one of those ridiculously high bridges that cross a river, did a graceful nosedive into the current and ended up 15 miles downstream, soaked and nonfunctional. You return to the present at the sound of your Bro's voice cutting through your recollections "Little Bro, get out of the car. We're here."

You fiddle with your iPod, turning it off for the moment and shoving it in your pocket before opening the door and stepping out, glad to be free of the claustrophobic confines of the car. You survey the school critically as you and Dirk walk to the entrance and wait to be buzzed in. It's much smaller than your high school back in Texas, that's for sure. The building has two symmetrical wings, and looks like it could hold a couple thousand students at most, whereas your old school consistently had a graduating class size of at least 1,500. This seems to be the general trend. Everything here has a cozy, small town feel to it, and is exponentially less massive than the Texas city scale you are used to. You just _know_ you are going to be bored out of your mind in a matter of months, if not weeks.

You sigh as the school doors click open, and you and your Bro make your way to the main office. An overly cheerful older woman greets you as you enter and asks how she can help you, and Dirk explains that you are here to enroll you in the school because the two of you have just moved to the area and... You stop paying attention to those two, and flop yourself down into one of the stereotypically uncomfortable guest chairs, pulling out your iPod again and turning on the mix that your Bro had previously interrupted. You swing your legs over one of the armrests, and rest your back against the other, stifling a yawn. You realize for the first time today just how tired you still are. (You hadn't gone to bed until after one in the morning last night.) The quiet, rhythmic beat of your music, the soothing murmur of Dirk's voice and the shuffling of papers in the background, and the slightly stuffy warmth of the office lull you into a state of relaxed stupor, and you doze off completely, head lolling back. In your unconscious state, you fail to notice the cheerful girl with dark hair, thick spectacles, and a slight overbite skip into the office to drop off first period attendance, though she certainly notices you, and inquires of the office lady who you are. In fact, you don't notice anything until your Bro shakes your shoulder gently to wake you up an hour or so later.

"Hey. Little Bro. Dave. Wake up." You grunt sleepily and stretch lethargically in reply. "The guidance councilor needs you to pick your electives and talk to you about classes and school policies. Have a nice nap?"

"Oh, fuck off Bro," you grumble as you push yourself to your feet. "Now where are we going?"

"The last door on the right over there." He points down the short hallway of administrative offices, then turns to walk out of the main office altogether, waving vaguely with one gloved hand without turning around to look at you. "See ya when school's over."

"Woah, wait, where are you going?" You ask, cursing yourself as you hear a note of panic creeping into your voice. "You aren't leaving yet, are you?"

He turns around at that, concerned and a little confused by your tone. "Well, I mean, you're pretty much registered. There's no point in me staying..." he trails off slowly. The two of you make eye contact through your shades and have an instantaneous, nonverbal dialogue.

As much as you complain about your Bro, the two of you are actually really close. That's the only reason you can (and do) fuck with each other so much. You guess it's not really surprising that you rely on each other so much, and don't really trust outsiders. Dirk has been the only constant in your life, and you his, since your parents died when you were only 4. The foster care system has done a number on you two, shuttling you from house to house until Dirk was legally old enough to take care of you on his own. The two of you had seemed to have the worst luck with families, though in retrospect you supposed that a "too smart for his own good" teenager obsessed with anime, ponies, and robots, and perpetually getting into trouble, and a toddler who idolized his older brother and copied just about everything he did, neither of whom seemed to have the ability to sit still for more than 15 minutes at a time and a collective penchant for sharp weapons couldn't have been the easiest children to deal with. It doesn't matter now though. You haven't relied on anyone but yourselves since Bro turned 18 and got you out of you system with him, and the two of you are just fine.

But now, your Bro is just up and leaving you in a new place in totally unfamiliar surroundings with people you don't know and-it's definitely _not_ freaking you out. Why on Earth would you think that? Don't be ridiculous. You are cool as a cucumber about this whole situation. In fact, you are cooler than any goddamn cucumber you've ever seen. You're cool as a strawberry popsicle in the middle of a Russian winter. No. You are even cooler than that. In fact, you're as cool as a fucking penguin frozen in a block of ice in a hole in Antarctica.

You break eye contact with your Bro first, and look down at your feet, disappointed, but you know that he's right. There isn't any reason for him to stay any longer. You glance up in surprise as he walks back over to you, and puts his hand on your head. You are pleasantly surprised when he ruffles your hair, and you only try halfheartedly to push his arm away and tell him to "fuck off" because he's messing up your hair. You're secretly pleased, as you two don't really show much physical affection for each other (you're both far too ironically awesome for that pansy, emotional shit) and it's been a while since the last time you had nonaggressive interaction, even if neither of you really mean it.

"You'll be fine, Little man, I promise," he says in a voice low enough that only you can hear him. "Besides, I'll be here to pick you up when school ends. Alright?"

You breathe a sigh of relief at that. You don't know if you could find your way home by yourself yet. You know your house is within walking distance of the school, but you don't exactly have the best sense of direction. Actually, your sense of direction is complete shit. Shittier than the shit factor of your and Bro's shittiest katanas put together. Then multiplied by six. "Fine," you reply, but you know Dirk can tell that you really appreciate the reassurance.

His hand drops to your shoulder and he squeezes you in an almost imperceptible, one armed hug before flashstepping out of the office without a backward glance. You drop your poker face for a good 40 seconds before wiping the smile off of your face, reaching up to tidy your hair, and turning to the guidance councilor who has been waiting patiently for you.

It takes you the better part of two hours to finish choosing your classes and organizing your schedule, and then going through the bullshit policies and welcome spiel that seem to you to be pretty fucking self explanatory. All in all, it's almost lunchtime by the time everything is finalized, so you don't actually end up going to any of your classes yet. The councilor offers to assign a student to help you find your way around the school on your first day, but you politely (well- politely _might _be a bit of a stretch) decline the offer, and just take the map she gives you instead. The school is small enough that it can't really be _that_ hard to find your way around. You wander the halls for a few minutes, surveying the lockers and closed classroom doors, and gradually make your way to the cafeteria just as the bell rings for the end of the period. (Impeccable timing, but you've always had a gift for that sort of thing.)

You speed through the lunch line in no time, as you are literally _the _first student there, but don't see anything that strikes your fancy. Honestly, the school food looks like shit. Actually, you're pretty sure that shit would be more appetizing than the vast majority of the unmentionable substances they market as "food". You make a mental note to tell Dirk that he needs to pick up some snacks you can bring for lunch. You rummage through your pockets and find the granola bar and juice box from this morning, (you lost your appetite entirely after the mentally scarring car ride to the school) and decide to skip the school food altogether. You make your way to the back of the cafeteria and choose a secluded booth in the back corner where you figure you won't be interrupted, and you can settle in for a good bout of people watching. You unwrap the granola bar and take a bite as you swing your legs up onto the bench and observe your new classmates as they enter the cafeteria. Most of them look pretty average, and not all that different from the kids at your school in Texas. The majority of them are just dressed warmer. As you expected, no one approaches your table, and you finish off your granola bar and start in on your juice box, quickly losing interest in the people around you.

You are sitting, fiddling idly with the bendy straw of your apple juice when you notice someone enter the cafeteria a few minutes after everyone else. You watch with amused disinterest as he struggles first with the zipper to his backpack, then tries- and fails miserably- to pull something out of it without actually taking the bag off, all as he veritably trips his way across the room increasingly closer to you. He _finally _manages to yank the brown paper bag that he was apparently struggling with from his backpack right as reaches you, but a pile of crumpled papers falls out as well. He curses, and you snort, chuckling slightly as you watch him slam his backpack down on your table, not seeming to notice your presence at all, and grumbles as he picks up the fallen materials and- oh, _hello!_ He crawls under the table to retrieve the last piece of paper and straightens up, only to lock eyes with you, seeming to notice your presence for the first time. You stare at him impassively and watch as he blushes slightly, presumably from embarrassment, as his eyes rake your body, taking in your presence. He seems to be at a loss for words, but you don't really mind because he's actually quite adorable, if a little dorky looking, especially as flustered as he currently seems to be. You look him up and down imperceptibly. He has shorter, unruly, dark hair, and you can tell just by looking at it that he has given up trying to control it. But it's okay, because it's just messy enough to make him look... genuine. Yes. That's the word. His entire face is soft and just a little childlike, an image perpetuated by his short, rounded nose, wide mouth graced with not _too_ prominent buck teeth, and his eyes. Holy shit, his _eyes. _You thought you knew what blue eyes looked like before, but you were obviously sadly mistaken. He has eyes the color of the summer sky in Texas when there isn't a cloud to be seen. Azure. Is that what they call it? Whatever, the color doesn't do them justice. They deserve their own color. Name that shit and stick it on a fucking Crayola. His eyes are hidden slightly behind a pair of thick framed, black, rectangular glasses, but they just serve to emphasize how big they are, and how astoundingly _blue._

However, your mesmerized staring is interrupted when the blue-eyed stranger says incredulously "Dude, what the fuck?"


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I know. I said once a week. I'm sorry! I wrote half of it and had the worst case of writer's block. It was awful. But it's posted now, and I should have Dave's chapter up in a few days. Not too long, I promise. :) Anywho, thank you all so much for the follows, favorites, and reviews. You all make my day every single time! Thanks to SlytherinSoul14, AnonymousNinjaGirl, and especially Chocolate-Kitties-313 for your reviews. They really do motivate me to keep writing. As always, though I wish I did, I do not own Homestuck. Please review, as I am always looking for ways to improve! Anywho, enjoy! :)

John's POV

Your free hand flies up to your mouth and you feel heat rush to your face as you stutter out a flustered apology. You cannot _believe_ you just cursed at a complete stranger, let alone one who had done absolutely nothing to instigate such a reaction.

"S-sorry, I, uh, didn't see you there," you mumble. You break eye contact with the stranger who is still passively observing you with no apparent reaction, if you can even call one person staring at a pair of mirrored lenses "eye contact". You hastily shove the pile of paper rather precariously into your backpack, grab your lunchbag and prepare to abscond the _fuck_ out of there. You are more than ready to leave this incredibly awkward situation and totally forget the boy with the sunglasses and apple juice, and hope fervently that he will extend the same courtesy to you.

Well. You _were_ ready. Until you make the fastest 180 degree turn of your life, only to be confronted by a blinding smile, bespectacled green eyes, and an all too energetic, bone-crushing hug. Which causes all of your papers to come flying out of your backpack (which you had left entirely unzipped in your hurry to get away). Again. And seems to have elicited a _very_ odd sound from apple juice-boy. You shoot a brief glance over your shoulder and see him fighting, and failing, to prevent an expression of obvious amusement from crossing his face. You guess that the strangled sound you had heard was a poorly contained laugh at your expense.

Your attention is brought back to the girl currently preventing you from breathing as she squeals directly into your ear "Oh my gosh, _HI_ John!"

"Hey Jade," you respond, carefully extricating yourself from her hug before sighing and bending down to gather your papers yet again. You see her glance down at the papers scattered all over the floor, and she immediately gets down on hands and knees to help you pick them up.

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to spill all of your papers!" She looks at you with such genuine apology that you can't stay even remotely frustrated with her.

"It's no big deal, don't worry about it," you offer her a reassuring smile, and straighten as you retrieve the last piece, hopefully for the last time. She hands her half of the stack back to you, and you return the papers to your backpack, this time zipping it to prevent another paper avalanche. You begin speaking to her, turning as you finish zipping your bag, "Oh, by the way, we're going to have to sit at another table today-" but you are totally cut off as Jade finally notices the blonde boy behind you.

"John, I didn't know you knew Dave! When did you meet him? Wait, how did you meet him before I did? Oh, was he in AP Psychology with you and Rose? That must be it. But I can't believe you haven't introduced me yet! Oh, well, it doesn't matter, this is so exciting. I'm so glad you two already know each other, it'll be so easy to get to know him now!" She veritably skips around you and extends her hand, grinning widely at the boy seated at your table, whose name is apparently Dave. "Hi, I'm Jade."

You watch in satisfied, though admittedly still confused, amusement as he takes the proffered hand and his arm is practically shaken off by the enthusiastic handshake he receives in response.

"Ummm, Jade, I have no idea what you're talking about. I have no idea who this-" you gesture vaguely at the Dave-person, "is. How do _you _know who he is, especially if you don't actually _know_ him?" You are genuinely and utterly confused.

Jade shoots you a rather quizzical look. "Oh, I mean, I just figured since he was sitting at our table, you must have asked him to eat with us. And you wouldn't have asked a complete stranger, so I thought you knew each other, even if it was only for the duration of a class period. We can still eat with him though, right?" She looks a little crestfallen, and you instinctually feel guilty.

Wait. Hold on just a goddamn second. You haven't done anything here! All _you_ did was try to sit down at your table to eat your lunch, because you are starving. Something which, your stomach reminds you vexedly, you _still _haven't done. There is nothing here to feel guilty about. Nothing at all. You simply want to sit down away from the unnecessary, unwanted intrusion this _Dave _person constitutes, and each your fucking lunch. Which is exactly what you are going to-

Oh, bloody _fucking_ hell. (Thank you, summer you spent in London with your cousin last year.) She's using her stupid, _stupid_ puppy dog eyes. She stands a little pigeon-toed, looking down at her feet, hands fiddling with the hem of her shirt. Then she looks up at you imploringly from behind her thick spectacles, which make her forest green eyes appear even larger. She knows you can't say no to her when she does that.

With a resigned sigh, you sit down on the bench next to... Da- well, whatever his name was, and kiss any hope you had of a peaceful lunch goodbye.

Jade is about to take the seat across from you when she spots Rose crossing the cafeteria, deep in conversation with Kanaya, another good friend of hers that sits with you three occasionally. Although recently, occasionally had turned into more often than not. You take a moment to reflect on the fact that Rose always seems to be deep in conversation with _somebody_, then decide that fact isn't really relevant to anything that's happening right now. Phew, tangent averted.

Jade skips over to them and joins their conversation effortlessly, chattering animatedly with them all the way back to the table, where you are currently eating your turkey and cheese sandwich, and staunchly ignoring the person seated as far to your left as you can manage. Your genius plan to "pretend the apple juice kid isn't here" is totally shot to pieces when Rose and Kanaya slide gracefully onto the bench across from you, and Jade squishes herself into your side of the booth, all but shoving you into aforementioned-kid's lap. Wonderful. Just. Fucking. Fabulous. Well. _This _should be entertaining.


End file.
